


i've got the strangest feeling

by killproof



Series: all my past lives (they got nothin' on me) [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Autistic Keith (Voltron), Genderfluid Lance (Voltron), M/M, Reincarnation, Trans Keith (Voltron), keith has glasses because honestly why not, mlm author, not mentioned a lot but you better fucking believe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 13:05:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12321639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killproof/pseuds/killproof
Summary: “I’m Lance, like she said. Her name’s Katie, and the big guy’s Hunk.”Oh. Oh, they want him to tell them his name.“I’m Keith,” he says, looping his arm through the other backpack strap and pulling it onto his back fully. Lance finally brightens at that, beaming widely.“Nice to meet you, Keith.”✦There's something about Keith's classmate that feels strangely familiar.





	i've got the strangest feeling

**Author's Note:**

> title from “past lives” by BØRNS
> 
> this is an anniversary gift for my boyfriend and also the most self-indulgent thing ive written in my life.

Keith transfers to Altea Prep midway through the second month of school. It’s not as bad as it could’ve been, in his opinion, but it’s still enough to make his new teachers wince when he tells them he’s meant to be in their class. Periods blow by easily enough─ he’d expected math and science classes to be tougher, so he’s not surprised by it, but he still slides into his seat in his eighth period English class with a sigh of relief that the worst is out of the way.

 

He'd gotten there early enough that the classroom is near-empty─ there's three others across the row from him, grouped up tight and hunched over the shortest one’s phone, muffling laughter over something on the screen. He shifts in place slightly, and the chair makes a painfully loud squeaking sound as it moves with him. Keith winces as the attention of his classmates shifts to the corner he's sitting in. _So much for first impressions,_ he thinks, staring down pointedly as he unzips his backpack, pulling out his notebook.

 

When he looks up, the one closest to Keith is still staring at him. The others have gone back to whatever they were laughing at before, but they appear to have forgotten all about it. An odd sort of shiver runs down Keith’s spine, and he tenses his shoulders, trying to suppress the shudder. Belatedly, he realizes he's been staring _back,_ and─ this is weird, right? Eye contact probably doesn't work like this.

 

Regardless, something in him doesn’t _want_ to look away─ he lets his gaze roll over his classmate, taking in the details he can make out from across the row. They’re wearing a sky-blue hat, twisted back so the strap is lying over their forehead, bangs trapped underneath. Dark brown eyes spark with mischief from under the soft brown hair that pokes out in tufts from under the snapback.

 

It must be obvious that Keith is looking at them with something more than a zoned-out haze, because their eyebrows raise─ a silent question, though he isn’t sure if he’s supposed to know what it is. He jerks his head down to stare at the blank page of his notebook, breaking the prolonged eye contact, and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Blissful distraction comes along as the other students slowly filter in, some giving Keith odd looks ─ most likely just at the new face among the class, but he fidgets nervously nonetheless ─ but none say anything to him, settling into their own seats and talking amongst themselves as they wait for the bell to ring.

 

Class passes by in a haze; Keith finds himself more distracted than usual, and when he realizes that his gaze keeps drifting towards dark eyes and a blue hat, he can’t attribute it to a boring lesson. Near the end of class, when he’s checking the clock for what feels like the hundredth time, he absently realizes he’s looking at them again. Only─ okay, they’re definitely staring back.

 

They blink, seeming to notice him looking at them for the first time. _Were they looking at me already?_ He wonders, eyebrows drawn. He expects them to frown, or at least _something_ like that, because _come on,_ weird new guy staring at you twice in one day?

 

They wink at him. They honest-to-god just─ _wink,_ exaggerated and accompanied by a truly shit-eating grin. Embarrassingly, Keith feels heat flood his cheeks, staining them blotchy red, and he’s never been more relieved to hear the loud and obnoxious clanging of the bell. He fumbles to shove his notebook back into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and stuffing his earbuds into the front pocket before zipping it clumsily, eager to leave as quickly as possible.

 

But of course, of _course_ his luck is shit enough that they intercept him before he makes it anywhere near the door. He mentally curses himself for picking a seat in the corner of the room opposite to the door, hoping his face isn’t as cherry-red as it _feels_ when his classmate flashes him a smile that, logically, shouldn’t sparkle like that. What the fuck.

 

“Hey! You’re new, aren’t you?” They ask, leaning back on the balls of their feet. Keith mentally catalogs the fact that they’re taller than he figured─ they've got a good three inches on him, actually.

 

“Um─” He manages, trying to collect his thoughts enough to regain cognitive ability. “Yes?” he says awkwardly, the inflection coming out as a question rather than a statement. He internally winces at it, and curls his hand tighter around his backpack strap. He glances back towards the door, taking a step backwards. His classmate’s eyes flick down, obviously noticing his movement, and he opens his mouth, ready to make an excuse, but is promptly interrupted by one of his classmate’s friends calling out behind him, turning around on instinct.

 

“Lance! C’mon, we’re gonna be late!” The shorter one huffs, cheeks puffed out in an exasperated sigh so her freckles are on obvious display, red hair brushing against her shoulders as she gestures for them to follow as she and their other friend (who is much taller than either of them and wearing a shirt Keith is pretty sure is Naruto merchandise) move to head out the door. _Lance,_ Keith thinks, feeling the same strange shiver as before buzz down his spine. _Where have I heard that before?_

 

“Gimme a sec!” Lance calls back, turning back to Keith with a sheepish smile. “We’re not late for anything. We’re going to Party City, she’s just really aggressive about Halloween,” they explain, and Keith nods absently, trying to pretend like he understands at _all_ why Lance is telling him any of this. Their eyebrows furrow slightly. “I’m Lance, like she said. Her name’s Katie, and the big guy’s Hunk.”

 

Oh. _Oh,_ they want him to tell them his name.

 

“I’m Keith,” he says, looping his arm through the other backpack strap and pulling it onto his back fully. Lance finally brightens at that, beaming widely.

 

“Nice to meet you, Keith.” They say, so genuine it hurts, and Keith can’t help the small smile that quirks at his lips in return.

 

 _“Lance,_ I swear to fuck, I won’t buy you caramels if you don’t hurry your ass up.” Katie threatens, impressively intimidating for someone who looks about four feet even. Lance jolts, muttering something about _‘freaking academic center kids’_ before giving Keith a half-wave and dashing over to their friends, stumbling over their feet a little as Katie shoves the two out the doorway. Hunk doesn’t seem to move at all from her pushing, but smiles amicably and walks out alongside her and Lance. Keith shakes his head, snickering a bit to himself, and trails behind them into the crowded hallway.

 

At least this school isn’t boring.

 

✦

 

He takes it back, he would much rather Altea Prep be boring.

 

His transfer coincides with spirit week at the school, and when he walks into class on Friday he's greeted with a slew of school colors─ apparently, the end of spirit week is marked by the pep rally, which means much shorter class periods, but two hours worth of standing in the stadium. Another fun fact he discovers through pep rally day─ Lance and their friends are in Keith’s division. The school is large enough that grades are split up into manageable divisions so teachers can supervise them on days like today, and Keith had been unceremoniously dropped into the one with an opening. Shockingly, he does not immediately find his place among the twenty-six students who had already known each other for two years. He does, however, find an open desk in the back corner that enables him to avoid interacting with the rest of the students as much as possible.

 

Across the room, he notices Lance’s friends, the taller boy smearing facepaint onto the girl’s cheeks in stripes with oddly intense focus. They have blue and white pom-poms and kazoos stacked up on the desk next to them, and it doesn't take much deduction for Keith to guess that it's courtesy of Lance.

 

“You're here, too?” A familiar voice says above him, and he lifts his head to find Lance looking down at him curiously.

 

“Yeah,” he replies, tapping his pencil against the desk idly. They peer at him thoughtfully.

 

“Huh…so you're like, new at _school?_ Like, the entire school.” They say it as if they're working out the conditions of his arrival for themself rather than asking him a question. He nods jerkily, trying to save himself the awkwardness of making conversation but seriously doubting that monosyllabic replies and gesturing are any better.

 

“Do you wanna sit with us?” The tall guy ─ _Hank? Hunk?_ ─ says suddenly, startling both of them. He looks between the two of them, gaze landing back on Keith after a moment. “Since you don't know anyone,” he elaborates.

 

“Hunk!” Lance squeaks, clutching their chest. “Have you been eavesdropping the _entire time?”_ They exclaim, sounding inordinately betrayed for such a minor intrusion. Hunk shrugs.

 

“It's a gift,” he says, ignoring Lance’s spluttered _‘that wasn't a compliment’_ and turning a smile towards Keith. “So? I promise Katie isn't as intimidating as she seems. Plus, you won't be alone during the pep rally,” he offers, which, admittedly, does sound tempting compared to sitting alone and drowning out the crowd with his headphones.

 

“Sure,” he says before he has time to change his mind. “Yeah, sure.” Hunk smiles, giving him a pat on the back that knocks the wind out of him before turning back to Katie, picking up the facepaint from her desk.

 

"Nice, dude! Want some facepaint?" He asks brightly, gesturing with the container. Keith eyes the fluorescent blue paint.

 

"Um, I guess?" He says hesitantly. Hunk sets the containers of blue and white down on Keith's desk.

 

"Cool. I gotta finish Katie’s, but I'm sure Lance won't mind helping you out." He says, giving the two of them a thumbs-up. Keith glances up at Lance, who gives Hunk and unreadable look before flashing Keith a slightly pained smile.

 

"Uh, yeah! No problem," they say, plopping down at the desk in front of Keith, turned around to face him. Keith's eyes flick between the facepaint and Lance, already decked out with what looks like handprints messily smeared over their cheeks. "Any preference?" They ask, plucking the blue paint off the desk.

 

"Just stripes, I guess," he says lamely. Lance snickers.

 

"Boring," they say, but don't argue, dipping their fingertips into the blue and reaching towards Keith with their clean hand, cupping his jaw and leaning forward. _Oh, this was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea,_ Keith thinks, hoping his internal panic isn't obvious to Lance as they gently brush their painted fingertips over his cheekbones, bright blue against his pale skin. They repeat the motion on the other side of his face, wiping off the excess left on their hand with a paper towel and duplicating the stripes with the white facepaint. "There! All done." They say, leaning back again.

 

"Thanks." Keith says, reaching up to feel the design, stopping himself short as he realizes it'll probably leave fingerprints all over it.

 

"Anything in the name of school spirit," Lance says, winking as they stand back up. "See you in the stadium!" They say brightly, moving back over to Hunk and Katie. Keith gives a half-hearted wave in return, turning his face back down to his desk and willing the burning heat on his cheeks to die down.

  
  
  


_( “I was supposed to ask him to sit with us! It was gonna be so cool and suave, dude, are you trying to sabotage me? Did Katie put you up to this?”_

 

 _“Lance, I believe in your flirting skills, but we both know you would've shouted, like,_ ‘anyway you have a cool jacket, bye!’ _at him and ran away if I let that conversation continue on the path it was going down.”_

 

_“...you're right, but I don't appreciate it.”_

 

 _“Love you, buddy.”_ )

 

✦

 

A week later, Keith finally realizes that he's somehow wormed his way into Lance’s friend group when he shows up to lunch and instinctively goes toward their table.

 

“Whoa,” Katie says when she catches sight of him, glasses fogged up and dotted in raindrops, hoodie practically dripping onto the cafeteria floor. “What'd you _do,_ play stormchasers in science class?”

 

“I'm taking Physics, not Meteorology,” he says instead of answering her question, plopping down at the table and ignoring Lance’s indignant shriek when he shucks off his hoodie and wrings it out onto the floor. They’ve got red flannel on, buttoned neatly to the collar, and for some reason, Keith’s first reaction is _‘hey, red's_ my _color’._ He pushes down the thought in favor of wringing the fabric out more, staring at Lance and silently daring them to try and stop him.

 

“Cheaply dodges the question.” Katie shoots back, eyebrows raised. Keith grimaces. He was sort of hoping he'd successfully distract her, this time.

 

“Are we just collectively ignoring that? _Really?_ Were you raised by _wolves,_ Keith?” Lance says incredulously. Keith rolls his eyes, swiping a finger across his glasses in an attempt to clear his vision.

 

“Yes, I was.” He says in a deadpan, turning towards Hunk and Katie. “Do any of you have glasses wipes? My shirt won't do anything, it's all wet.”

 

“Let me see ‘em,” Lance says, and suddenly his frames are being slipped off his face, leaving him to blink in surprise at the slightly blurry faces of his friends.

 

“Wow, you look _weird_ without those.” Hunk says, crinkling his nose and taking a long sip from his juice box.

 

“Thanks so much,” Keith says, sarcasm dripping from his words. Lance bumps their shoulders together, jostling him slightly.

 

“I feel kind of let down,” They say, wiping off one of the lenses with the corner of their shirt. “Aren't you supposed to be secretly super hot? Anime misled me.” Keith snorts, pushing his damp bangs back from his forehead where they'd started dripping, rivulets of water running down his cheeks.

 

“I'm so sorry Sailor Moon has raised your expectations like this.” He says, eyebrows raised. Lance flushes inexplicably, and unceremoniously shoves Keith’s glasses back onto his face with a hurried _‘whatever!’._

 

“We were just talking about how bad the pep rally sucked last week. You missed it,” Katie says. Hunk nods sagely in agreement, and Lance groans.

 

“Man, we should've done a cheer,” they sigh, propping their cheek up on their hand. “That would've been _so cool.”_

 

“I mean, we still can.” Hunk shrugs. They perk up at that.

 

“Yeah, you're right!” They say excitedly. “How about, like─ I say _‘Al’_ you say _‘tea’!_ Al!” They exclaim, pointing towards Keith. He looks up jerkily, and the cogs turn in his head as he process what Lance is trying to get him to say. _That doesn’t make any sense,_ he thinks, frowning. _It’s faster to just say it by yourself and have people echo back. Al-tea,_ he thinks, testing out the sound of it in his head. Belatedly, he realizes that he’s probably been silent an uncomfortably long time for what’s meant to be a call-and-response prompt.

 

“Al...tea?” Is what slips off his tongue, the faster version of Lance’s cheer still fresh in his mind. Lance falters slightly, thrown for a loop.

 

“No─ dude, the instructions are in the cheer,” they explain, thankfully ignoring the opportunity to poke fun at him. Keith bites back a _‘yeah, I know’_ and keeps his expression carefully blank. In wake of his silence, Lance sighs, crossing their arms over their chest.

 

“We’ll work on it,” they promise.

 

✦

 

"Keith! Keithy, Keef, Kiefer Sutherland─"

 

"I'm cutting you off right there," Keith sighs, holding a hand up. Lance's grin doesn't falter for a second, and they bounce slightly, flashing him an expression that says _'I need a favor and I'm trying to make you happy before I ask for it'._ He raises an eyebrow, eyes narrowing suspiciously.  "What do you want?" He says. The bright expression melts off their face, and they mumble something under their breath that Keith would assume was a curse if they weren't ridiculously PG when it came to language.

 

"How did you _know?"_ They exclaim. "You don't get the pep rally cheer but you get that?" Keith shrugs in lieu of verbal response, and they huff out a sigh, crossing their arms. "That's it, I'm calling it. You're a robot."

 

"Beep boop," he says flatly. "You know you can just _ask_ for favors, right?"

 

"Keith, this is an _art._ Respect the process."

 

"What's an art? Ass-kissing?" Katie pipes up, walking up to them. Lance gives her an affronted look.

 

"It's not _ass-kissing."_ They insist.

 

"It's definitely ass-kissing." She smiles sweetly, elbowing them in the stomach. "Did you ask him yet?"

 

"Ask me what?" Keith says, eyebrows raised.

 

"You're all out to get me," Lance says, voice accusatory and out of breath, their arms wrapped around their torso. "All of you."

 

"I didn't even hit you that hard." Katie says, rolling her eyes. She pats them on the shoulder, looking back at Keith. "There's a fair getting set up around Hunk's house. We were wondering if you wanted to come with?" She offers, and Lance gasps.

 

"Hey, _I_ was supposed to ask!" They exclaim. Keith snickers quietly.

 

"That's what you were building up to?" He asks, grinning. "It's not that big a deal."

 

"Yeah, but you're a weird hermit," Lance says, ignoring Keith's offended expression and continuing, "So we didn't know if you'd come. I had a speech and everything," they pout, sighing.

 

"What, you wrote persuasive essay on why I should come to a fair?"

 

"Yes," They sniff, chin tilted up airly. "It was very professional. The selling points were cotton candy and lots of potential flirtees."

 

"I─ _flirtees?"_ Keith asks incredulously.

 

"You don't wanna know," Katie mutters, the same time as Lance exclaims _'that's a great question!'._

 

"Flirtees, dude. The recipients of my awesome pick-up lines." They explain, beaming. Keith purses his lips in an attempt to muffle laughter that ─ judging by Lance and Katie's expressions ─ is failing miserably.

 

“What's so funny?” Lance says defensively. Keith covers his mouth with a hand, calming another slew of giggles, and shakes his head.

 

“Nothing. Guess you're─” Keith cuts himself off as he realizes he was about to say _‘guess you're still a shameless flirt’,_ which─ what? Lance waves their hand in front of his face.

 

“Dude, you zoned out. I'm what?”

 

“Uh,” Keith says, snapping back to the conversation. “Sorry. Nevermind.”

 

"Ohhhh-kay." They say skeptically, lowering their hand. "Anyway, are you in or not?" Keith shrugs.

 

"Yeah, why not?" He says. Lance beams.

 

"Nice. Squad outing," They declare, looking back to Katie excitedly.

 

"If you call us a squad again, I'm deleting your contact." She says, shifting her backpack on her shoulder. "I gotta go, though. Science Olympiad meeting." She gives them a wave over her shoulder as she walks away.

 

"See you this weekend!" They yell after her.

 

"Yeah, yeah! I'll be there," she calls back, disappearing around the corner. Lance turns back to Keith, still smiling.

 

"You know where to go, right?" They ask expectantly. Keith frowns, nose crinkling.

 

"Um, no. Since when have I ever been to Hunk's house?" He points out. Lance's smile falls, their eyebrows furrowing thoughtfully.

 

"Okay, still, it's no problem." They say after a moment. "You live near me, right? I can pick you up on my bike," They offer.

 

"I don't think the two of us are gonna fit on your ten-speed, Lance." He says, admittedly amused at the mental image of Lance attempting to figure out a way for them to both ride it without tipping over.

 

"I meant my _motorcycle,_ killjoy." They scoff, interrupting his thought process. Keith's eyes widen, and he gives them and incredulous look.

 

“You have a fucking _motorcycle?"_ He says a little louder than intended, attracting the attention of a few students making their way out the doors. Lance shushes him, flailing to cover his mouth. Keith bats them away successfully up until they elbow him in the ribs (which would be a dirty move if he hadn't taken off his binder already), knocking the wind out of him with a quiet _‘oof’_ and taking the opportunity to clap a palm over his mouth. They let out a horrified screech when Keith licks their hand, jerking backward and looking at him like he just grew a second head.

 

“What? I have an older brother, you think I don't know how to get people off of me?” He says, raising an eyebrow. Lance makes an indignant noise.

 

“I know _that._ I'm just trying to figure out why your fighting style hasn't progressed past kindergarten.” They shoot back. Keith rolls his eyes.

 

“Whatever. You didn't answer my question,” he points out.

 

"I wouldn't have offered you a ride if I didn't, genius."

 

"I wouldn't put it past you," Keith says, smirking at Lance's offended expression. "But yes, I would appreciate the ride."

 

"I'm going to pretend you didn't insult me, because I know you're secretly super excited about this." They sniff in mock-disdain.

 

"You got me.” He says, pulling his earbuds out and popping one in. “I'll see you this weekend, then?" Lance nods.

 

"Yeah. I'm gonna _destroy_ you at the booth games, I hope you're ready." They declare, grinning. Keith doesn't attempt to stop the answering smile that cracks over his face.

 

"Can't wait, asshole."

 

✦

 

Keith is studying when he's rudely interrupted by the blaring sound of Lance's ringtone. They'd somehow managed to set it to _Baby Come Back,_ of all things, and refuses to tell Keith how to change it. Originally, it'd been Careless Whisper, the run of which had been quickly cut short when they realized Keith actually liked George Michael. He fumbles to grab it, swiping to answer before he's further subjected to the loud music.

 

"You're a dick." He states before Lance has the chance to say anything, and their laughter echoes into the speaker, loud and annoyingly endearing.

 

"Hello to you, too." They say cheerfully, and Keith can hear the smile in their voice.

 

"What do you want?" He snaps without any real bite behind it, gathering his notebooks into a pile and sliding them back into his backpack.

 

"What do you think? Your ride's outside, babe." They say. Keith is suddenly _very_ glad that Lance isn't here to see the flush that burns over his cheeks at the nickname.

 

"Whatever," he mumbles, thanking every deity out there that his voice doesn't crack. "I'll be out in a minute."

 

"I'll be counting!" Lance chirps, and just like that, the line goes dead. Keith tucks his phone into his pocket, leaning over his backpack to dig out his wallet, and throws on his jacket─ olive green and heavy, a size too big for him. He opens his door and quickly makes his way downstairs, calling out a goodbye to his mom to let her know where he's going before walking out into the cold October air. Lance is parked outside his house, helmet held in their hands and one elbow propped against the handlebars of their bike in what's probably meant to be a casual lean.

 

"Uber for Keith?" They joke as he walks towards them. Keith snorts.

 

"I hate you." He says, rolling his eyes.

 

"Your smile says otherwise," they point out, accurately enough. Their eyes skim over his jacket, and they reach out to grab the lapel. "Is this mine?" They ask, meeting his gaze again. Keith frowns.

 

"Um, no? I just got it this weekend." He says. Lance glances down again, looking confused.

 

"Huh. Weird," they shrug, letting go and stepping back. "Could've sworn I had one just like it."

 

"Alright," Keith says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Gonna give me a helmet? I'd rather not get killed by your driving." He says, earning a genuinely offended expression from Lance.

 

"Excuse you, I am an _amazing_ driver." They say defensively, setting their helmet down on the seat and pulling a second one from their backpack, handing it over. Keith takes it, smiling easily.

 

"Sure. Good to go?" He asks. Lance nods, picking their helmet back up. They move to put it on, but stop halfway, giving Keith a strange look.  “What?” He asks, frowning.

 

“Oh─ nothing,” Lance says, snapping out of the haze. “I just…had this weird thought just now, like you should be the one driving.” They chuckle, tucking the helmet under their arm. “I don't think you've touched a motorcycle in your life. You'd probably crash.”

 

“Hey!” Keith says indignantly. “I wouldn't _crash.”_

 

“Pfft, sure.” Lance says, rolling their eyes. “Still─ pretty weird, right?”

 

Keith thinks about the odd feeling in his chest whenever Lance wears red, whenever he notices the height difference between them, whenever Lance teases him about being younger.

 

“Right,” he echoes, nodding. “Pretty weird.”

 

✦

 

Keith doesn't notice he's been growing out his hair until Lance points it out.

 

“Hey, is your hair getting longer?”

 

He turns around to face them, hand moving to cover the nape of his neck, and oh, yeah, there is a good amount of hair there now. He frowns, eyeing Lance.

 

“Um. Yes? I think that's how hair follicles work. Is your hair _not_ getting longer?” He asks.

 

“One normal conversation,” Hunk groans from the chair next to them. “I just want to have _one_ normal conversation, man.”

 

“Why’d you make friends with _us,_ then?” Katie points out, not looking up from where she's scribbling out last-minute notes for her next class.

 

"She's got a point." Keith says, turning around fully, hand falling from his neck.

 

"I mean, yeah." Lance says, shrugging. "Also─ Keith, what the heck. Why are your teeth so freakin' _pointy?"_

 

"Why are you looking at my teeth?" He counters, leaning back from them.

 

"I'm not─ nevermind." They grumble, flopping back with a frustrated sigh. Keith rolls a tongue over his teeth a bit self-consciously.

 

“Is it weird that I feel like they should be sharper?” He blurts out. Lance tilts their head at him, a mix of confusion and amusement playing over their face. Eyebrows furrowed, lips pulling into a smile.

 

“You're losing it, dude.” They say, patting him on the shoulder.

 

He pulls a hand back through his bangs, thick strands knotting around his fingers, and thinks about a reflection that, inexplicably, has been looking more like himself the longer he lets his hair get. He just─ can't shake the feeling that it should be just a few shades darker. The dark brown already skirts the edge of black, but there's an itch that tells him it's _supposed_ to be darker. He knows Lance would probably call it _‘your emo phase coming back to haunt you’,_ but it feels…different than that.

 

Maybe he really is losing it.

 

✦

 

Keith regrets everything about letting Katie and Hunk leave him in the library with Lance.

 

“Stop touching my hair, weirdo.” He snaps for the nth time, batting their hand away.

 

“I'm not a weirdo!” Lance exclaims, affronted. “Your hair’s just, like─ it's weird.” They say, hand already inching back towards Keith’s hair despite their apparent distaste for the current style.

 

“Eloquent.” Keith drawls flatly, rolling his eyes as Lance’s fingers tangle in the hair hanging over the nape of his neck.

 

“Shut up, Keith, this is serious.” They insist. “I tease you about bad taste and all, but this is a new level. It's almost like you've got a _mullet─”_

 

In that moment, the millisecond between syllables, Keith goes stock-still. It feels like a shockwave rolling through his body, muscles tensing, spine pulled tight with electric current, and everything that's felt so inexplicably _familiar_ for the past few months doesn't seem so inexplicable anymore.

 

_“I'd recognize that mullet anywhere─”_

 

“Oh,” Lance says hollowly, eyes wide as they stare down at Keith.

 

“Holy fucking shit,” Keith says.

 

“That’s─ that's a way of expressing it,” Lance says, looking like they’ve just been sucker-punched. Before Keith has time to wonder if they're upset to see him again, they pull him in, crushing him against their chest in a hug tight enough to rival a boa constrictor.

 

"Touching reunion," he mumbles, muffled against the fabric of their shirt.

 

“Please shut up,” they sniff wetly, arms squeezing like they're trying to pull him somehow closer than he already is.

 

“Are you crying?”

 

 _“Yes,_ I’m crying!”

 

“You’re a sap.” He mumbles, feeling the ominous prick of tears in his own eyes, voice embarrassingly choked up. Lance stares quietly for a few beats, and tugs Keith up by the shoulders, sitting up in their seat and leaning closer.

 

"No offense, but I've been waiting god knows how many years to kiss you again," They murmur, gaze drifting unsubtly down to Keith's lips, and he swears that his heart stops for a moment. "Plus the months since you transferred. So if you could hurry up, that would be great."

 

"That's─ fuck." Keith's eyes slide shut, leaning forward so his forehead knocks against Lance's. "That's not fair, you can't just _say_ that." He says, voice cracking. Lance snickers, hand moving to cup Keith's jaw, lifting his chin to look at them again.

 

"Call it payback, babe." They say, smiling smugly at the red that blooms over Keith's cheeks. "You made me do all the work for our first kiss last time." Keith snorts.

 

"God, you _remember_ that?" He laughs.

 

"I remember _everything._ You're stalling." They pull him in a little closer, arm roping around his waist. "Gimme your best shot, samurai." They say, challenge obvious in their tone. Keith grins.

 

"You're on, sharpshooter."

  


 

 

 

They meet each other halfway.


End file.
